


In which there’s indigestion and chamomile tea

by VirtualCarrot (Kaoro)



Series: Teen Wolf tumblr ficlets [9]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:28:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23070970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaoro/pseuds/VirtualCarrot
Summary: Sometimes during a full shift, instinct takes over. Turns out roadkill isn't easy on the stomach once back to human form.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Teen Wolf tumblr ficlets [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1643803
Comments: 4
Kudos: 86





	In which there’s indigestion and chamomile tea

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted here https://virtualcarrot.tumblr.com/post/40297300915/for-the-failwolf-friday-okay-so-its-not-friday with companion fanart piece

One arm thrown over his face, the other lying limp on the bed, Derek groaned. Stiles snorted softly to himself, rustling his newspaper as he unfolded it. _Derek_ ’s newspaper. It was _his_ turn to read it first, damn it!

“I’m dying,” Derek announced.

Stiles hummed absently in response. There was the characteristic sound of a mouth parting, wetted fingers, and then a page was turned.

“Did I or did I not tell you _not_ to eat the dead rabbit?” Stiles asked without so much as a glance away from his reading material.

Derek tried rolling his eyes from under his forearm only to abruptly abort the motion. He felt dizzy, so he settled for a sigh. Sighs, he could do. He had had incessant practice since he had woken up faint and nauseated a few hours ago. Stiles had raised his head from where he had been face-planted in his pillow, taken one look at his greenish face, snickered, lowered his head back down and openly ignored Derek’s stumbles and curses as he made his way towards the bathroom.

“Can you at least wait until I’m better before you gloat?” Derek managed to grumble.

Stiles set the newspaper aside and turned to look at him with a smirk.

“Hell no — you huffed at me!”

The older man grunted something unintelligible; the tone was argumentative. It earned him a very pointed look.

“You huffed at me Derek. As a wolf.”

Stiles watched in amusement as Derek tried to lie on his side in order to turn his back to him. He stopped moving as soon as he started, raised his arm a few inches just long enough to cast him a withering look. Stiles’ smile grew.

“That’s what you get for finding a way to sass me even in your animal form.”

Derek prepared a scathing retort and winced when a new wave of nausea hit him instead. His senses were in overdrive. The bed dipped as Stiles shifted and stood up. He could hear the whisper of cloth and the scratch of nails against tender skin, the pops of bones settling after a stretch. Stiles always stretched languorously, moaning all along with his arms held up and his fingers spread, standing on the tip of his toes as if about to take flight. It was part of those little things of their everyday life that Derek cherished, and he really regretted not being in any shape to watch and appreciate the show for its full worth.

If you asked him, it was worth a lot.

“I feel like chamomile tea. Want some?” Stiles asked with extreme casualness once he was finished yawning.

Derek breathed in slowly and smiled to himself. Stiles hated tea. He called it infused grass in a tone of utter revolt, as if that meant anything at all, as if coffee, which he adored, was anything more than infused bean dust. A few years ago he had been required to ingest one of Deaton’s special concoctions in order to channel energies for a searching spell; almost an hour into one of Stiles’ greatest ranting masterpieces Scott had had to put his foot down and resort to blackmail so that things would get done. For his trouble, Stiles awarded him with a particular brand of stink eye that lasted for all of a week, led to a short yet crafty prank war, and ended in a peace offering of Starbucks coffee.

Derek grabbed Stiles’ wrist as he walked past him and tenderly kissed the inside of his palm before letting go. He heard the quickening pace of their heartbeats, felt the gentle caress of a cool hand against his forehead and listened to the soft receding footsteps until he had to make a conscious effort to hear them.

Chamomile was good for soothing indigestion and if that wasn’t love, Derek did not know what could be.

**Author's Note:**

> aaaaand that's very likely the last of those tumblr ficlets that I'll edit and post. My many, many, many thanks to Sadsnail for beta reading this whole series.


End file.
